


Contact High

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Grinding, M/M, Mild Smut, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 21:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11882802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Keith tries to find Lance after a particularly tiring battle, and gets suspicious when he realizes there's a distinct smell of.... something smoky and rough, coming from Lance's room.





	Contact High

**Author's Note:**

> This is self indulgent and I'm okay with that.

"Lance? Where are you?" Keith was pacing through the castle, searching frantically for Lance. He knew Lance got freaked out after particularly bad battles, and in this one Pidge had mad a misstep and gotten her arm sliced up. She was fine now, her arm bandaged tightly, watching some Altean movie with Allura and Hunk. But Keith knew Lance would take it personally, think he should have defended Pidge better, even though he was busy saving Hunk from a mess of Galra. And now, when Keith couldn't find him? Worrying. He paused in the hallway leading to their bedrooms, noticing a weird smell. Burnt, and sweet, like if someone set fire to cotton candy. He investiagted further down the hall. Was Lance on fire or something? Oh God, he wouldn't be that stupid. Would he? Keith walked faster.

When he reached Lance's room, the door locked, the smell was stronger than ever. _Something_ was on fire in there, and he could only hope it wasn't anything important. He knocked softly, and the door opened almost immediately. "Heyyyyy, Keith!" Lance said, loudly, happily. Keith coughed, the scent overpowering, sweet and hot and far too much. 

"Lance, what the hell are you even doing in here?" Keith looked past Lance, and saw that there was a haze of bright blue smoke in Lance's room. In the middle of the room, there was a bag of dark blue powder and a container of rolling papers. "Lance, are you fucking hotboxing your bedroom?"

"Nooo, silly! I-I just tried some cool stuff I bought from the mall! I got a drink too, don't worry!" Lance giggled, stupidly, and picked up a mostly-empty bottle of something dark, sloshing it around. He pulled Keith into his room and sat down criss-cross in the middle of the floor, patting the ground in front of him. Keith sighed loudly and sat down, rolling his eyes pointedly at lance. 

"I can't believe I'm gonna have to get Allura to get you sobered up. What the hell, Lance?" Lance waved him off, pulling out a paper and pouring a bit of the powder into it and rolling it, surprisingly adept for someone stoned out of their mind. He lit it with a match, and held it out to Keith, who wrinkled his nose and shook his head. Lance took a hit, and grabbed Keith by the back of the neck, pulling him forward. 

"C'mon, Keith. Live a little!" He whispered, sweet, aromatic smoke accompanying his words. Before Keith could respond, Lance was bringing him closer and breathing cloyingly sweet smoke into Keith's mouth, and, wow, that's way better than it smells. Keith laughs, and candy-blue smoke comes out of his mouth. His head is spinning a bit; how strong is this shit? Lance takes another hit, and pulls Keith back in, free hand tangling in the back of Keith's hair. This time, Keith welcomes it, lets himself get dragged back, until Lance is puffing smoke into his mouth. Keith smiles, idiotic, giddy, and closes the distance between them because, really, why the fuck not?

Lance must have dropped the blunt at one point, because now his left hand is tangling in Keith's hair and his right is tracing up and down Keith's spine. Keith smiles, pressing himself forward, his hands moving up and down Lance's back, their lips moving together. Keith breaks the contact, Lance making a whining sound in the back of his throat, and slides his hands under the hem of Lance's shirt. That's no longer a problem, and now Keith is free to feel Lance's chest against his own, although he's not sure when he lost his shirt. He's not sure he cares, actually. 

Lance moves away, shifting Keith into his lap, and Keith practically croons when Lance kisses his way down Keith's jaw, sucking marks into his neck, biting and making Keith jolt forward, pushing their hips together. Wow. Lance is hard. So is Keith, as Keith is just now realizing. When did that happen? He titters, but it turns into a moan when Lance fists a hand into Keith's hair and nips at his collarbone. Keith is pretty sure his nails are digging marks into Lance's back, and really, he's okay with that. Lance pushes his hips up, rolling them against Keith, and Keith lets out a breathy sigh, grinding down against him. This may be the best night of his life. The only problem is, Lance is being far too quiet.

Keith twists around, reaching down a hand to palm Lance through his pants. Lance chokes, seemingly on air, and stretches out his arm to grab at Keith, whichever part of him he can reach first, which turns out to be his crotch. Keith groans, rubbing himself against Lance's hand, and arches his back against Lance. Lance is panting, and Keith can feel the quick rise and fall of his chest. "Fuck-Keith, _fuck_ ," Lance murmurs, his breath hot on the back of Keith's neck. 

"Real literate, buddy," Keith breathes, but there's no malice in it. He's pressing himself into Lance's hand, and he can feel Lance's hips stuttering into his hand, and-

The door slides open, and Shiro is standing in the doorway. Keith and Lance freeze, and, for the first half a second, Shiro doesn't seem to notice what they're doing. "Lance, why is your room filled with-" Shiro finally sees them, sees their position, and his face goes bright red. "W-what are you guys doing?" He stammers out, eyes wide. Keith shrugs. What are you supposed to say to that? Shiro puts his head in his hands and sighs, deeply. "What kind of drugs are you even on, honestly? Go back to your room, Keith. Lance, just-go take a walk. Take a cold shower. I'll try and air out your room." Keith just nods, disappointed, but hey, it's Shiro. Lance pulls away, and smacks Keith's ass, for good measure. Shiro grimaces, and ushers them both out of the room.

Keith is pretty sure that, once his high had worn off, he's gonna regret this. But right now? Seemed like a pretty great idea.


End file.
